The Last Stretch
Coast to coast instrumentals
I don't know what the hell that is
Should have just called Puff for the fucking instrumental
Fuck it, no time for that boy
Cole World
Hey
Yeah, they say we living in troubled times
Ay, do you see the trouble signs?
Ay, life's a bitch, and I'm cuffing mines
My dough in flipmode, what up to Busta Rhymes?
I used to never see green, I was colorblind
Now I get my hustle on
Pay dues like a hair salon
My way like a Usher song
Higher power where these verses from
You niggas hoes, put your purses on
Church, get your worship on
Born alone, work alone, die alone
Hot fire like Dylan, bitches get their dial on
Fake niggas get dial tones, I ain't no Viacom nigga
I'm a fire arm, nigga, look how I alarm niggas
Watch my dope pile on 'til it's like a mile long
Niggas couldn't fill my shoes, couldn't even try 'em on
Showed your lil' ass look, that's how you take it
Two-facing niggas, couldn't tie my shoelaces, boy
Cold world, hey
That was the warm up, this is the blow up
Now if you ain't talking no bread boy, ain't no need to show up
Man they say I'm repping the Ville too much, but fuck it, so what?
When my niggas carrying toys like they don't wanna grow up
When my sisters drinking like fishes and won't even throw up
Let's po' up, get to' up, know the police gon' show up
I slow up
Some niggas ain't got no luck
Some niggas can't get no love
Some of 'em can't get no bucks
So tell me what do a nigga do if he can't get a job?
My brother got him an interview, but he can't get a ride
What's up God? No this ain't no Wu-Tang shit
This is my lil' fire drill, just some routine shit
Just to shoot fiends with and hold 'em off a lil' longer
Every verse I write, I swear I'm only getting stronger
Can you ponder?
Imagine what my shit gon' sound like
If I told you that The Warm Up was just a sound bite
Damn right, believe I put it down right
And I'll be sure to tell you lil' niggas what that crown like
I showed you love, I brought you through
I gave you pounds, right?
Ay, in my face, you knew your place
And so you smile right?
So why I'm here, and now you talking like a little girl?
You sound like Whitley, nigga
Me? I'm from a different world
Your shit is garbage, if I drop you, I'm a litterbug
Busy getting money, I ain't fucking with that Twitter, girl
Fuck what they say, wishing me harm and sorrow
They here today, bet they be gone tomorrow
They catching Z's on me, ay we gon' call 'em Zorro
I'll let you sleep today, but it's on tomorrow
Yeah, I said it's on tomorrow
I'm coming for the game
And I ain't talking loan or borrow
Pray for the days I get cash, checks and never weary
This the last stretch, I'm a half step from legendary, boy
Cold world, nigga
How real is this
I don't know what the hell that is
Should have just called Puff for the fucking instrumental
Fuck it, no time for that boy
Cole World
Hey
Yeah, they say we living in troubled times
Ay, do you see the trouble signs?
Ay, life's a bitch, and I'm cuffing mines
My dough in flipmode, what up to Busta Rhymes?
I used to never see green, I was colorblind
Now I get my hustle on
Pay dues like a hair salon
My way like a Usher song
Higher power where these verses from
You niggas hoes, put your purses on
Church, get your worship on
Born alone, work alone, die alone
Hot fire like Dylan, bitches get their dial on
Fake niggas get dial tones, I ain't no Viacom nigga
I'm a fire arm, nigga, look how I alarm niggas
Watch my dope pile on 'til it's like a mile long
Niggas couldn't fill my shoes, couldn't even try 'em on
Showed your lil' ass look, that's how you take it
Two-facing niggas, couldn't tie my shoelaces, boy
Cold world, hey
That was the warm up, this is the blow up
Now if you ain't talking no bread boy, ain't no need to show up
Man they say I'm repping the Ville too much, but fuck it, so what?
When my niggas carrying toys like they don't wanna grow up
When my sisters drinking like fishes and won't even throw up
Let's po' up, get to' up, know the police gon' show up
I slow up
Some niggas ain't got no luck
Some niggas can't get no love
Some of 'em can't get no bucks
So tell me what do a nigga do if he can't get a job?
My brother got him an interview, but he can't get a ride
What's up God? No this ain't no Wu-Tang shit
This is my lil' fire drill, just some routine shit
Just to shoot fiends with and hold 'em off a lil' longer
Every verse I write, I swear I'm only getting stronger
Can you ponder?
Imagine what my shit gon' sound like
If I told you that The Warm Up was just a sound bite
Damn right, believe I put it down right
And I'll be sure to tell you lil' niggas what that crown like
I showed you love, I brought you through
I gave you pounds, right?
Ay, in my face, you knew your place
And so you smile right?
So why I'm here, and now you talking like a little girl?
You sound like Whitley, nigga
Me? I'm from a different world
Your shit is garbage, if I drop you, I'm a litterbug
Busy getting money, I ain't fucking with that Twitter, girl
Fuck what they say, wishing me harm and sorrow
They here today, bet they be gone tomorrow
They catching Z's on me, ay we gon' call 'em Zorro
I'll let you sleep today, but it's on tomorrow
Yeah, I said it's on tomorrow
I'm coming for the game
And I ain't talking loan or borrow
Pray for the days I get cash, checks and never weary
This the last stretch, I'm a half step from legendary, boy
Cold world, nigga
How real is this
Credits
Writer(s): J. Cole
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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